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Furoku Gorou considered himself a pretty normal guy.
He wasn’t known for being smart, but he passed his academic tests with some effort. His Quirk was average. As the fifth child in a family of seven, he was used to being overshadowed; used to following in the footsteps of others beyond his ability to compete with. For a short while in middle school, he had dipped into teenage delinquency in an attempt to stand out, but that had fizzled out come high school when he fell into a crowd of similar-minded, regular people that weren’t impressed by his ability to smoke half a packet of cigarettes before lunch.
All he wanted out of life was to live until he was old and grey with a roof over his head. All he wanted for Christmas was to give Ayu-chan, a girl with a charming dimple in his class, a keychain with her favorite mascot that he had bought in one of Tokyo Station’s underground shops.
He could be a bit of an asshole sometimes, he admitted as much. He had tried to change for the better since he stopped trying to act edgy for the sake of gaining street cred that he never received anyway. These days he was just happy to be what he was. Simple. Unassuming.
But every now and then, he would dream of more.
So when his old acquaintance—ringleader?—from Aldera Middle had announced he would be joining the Christmas party Gorou had been arranging for his high school classmates, he hadn’t really been able to say no. Even now, Katsuki’s charisma still held that unbreakable sway over him, like the promise of a can of paint being dumped onto a plain sheet of paper.
(Besides, knowing someone like Katsuki did actually impress his classmates. Ayu-chan in particular had been both horrified and thrilled to hear about how he had narrowly escaped death by Katsuki’s side during the sludge monster incident, unwilling—rather than unable—to leave his friend even whilst trapped in a ring of impenetrable walls of flame. Every tale comes with its unsung heroes, you know. At least if it got them Ayu-chan’s number.)
The others had also gotten excited at first, especially some of the guys who recognized Katsuki from his more recent feats in the news. Reality—or, to be more accurate, Katsuki himself—had doused that enthusiasm fast enough, however. A threatening scowl and a few scathing comments had been all that took to put a halt to the eager approaches, and now Katsuki was sitting there on the far end of the seats of their rented box room by himself, just glowering at his smartphone.
As he had been doing the past forty minutes.
“Uh... not that it’s not great having you with us, Katsuki,” he ventured. “But, um. What are you doing here?”
Katsuki shot him an irritated glance over his screen. Turquoise and hot pink strobe lights danced on his face. “Isn’t that obvious? Celebrating Christmas with you suckers, that’s what.”
Gorou glanced at his classmates crooning their lungs out into their microphones up front, and then at Katsuki in his corner, his expression growing darker the further they progressed into the song. He seemed to be one AKB48 verse away from exploding the karaoke machine. “Right. Yeah. So... why is that, again?”
It wasn’t for lack of company, he was sure. Unsocial as Katsuki could be, he had always managed to attract people to him. Gorou had even seen him tagged in something called #bombsquad along with some other U.A. folks on social media.
“I mean, you had—have,” he corrected himself quickly, “you have friends over at U.A., right? Fancy elites and all that. So why waste time shitting around with us?”
Katsuki grunted. “They’re over in Saitama or Chiba. You fuckers were the only ones hanging around near Shibuya.”
Like that answered everything Gorou wanted to know. Yes, thank you, genius hero-in-training Mr. Bakugou Katsuki, this humble detective has no further questions thanks to your wonderfully descriptive input.
The journalists are going to love this guy once he goes pro, Gorou thought, before trying again: “So you have business near Shibuya? Like... someone you want to meet up with later?”
Oh God, please.
He knew he had been pushing his luck with his incessant line of questioning, but he still flinched when Katsuki rounded his full glare on him and almost got up from his seat. “Haaah? Why the fuck would I have something like that?”
“Okay, okay, so you just wanted to hang around Shibuya,” Gorou said, raising his hands to signal peace. “Gotcha. Easy, Katsuki, I was just curious—it’s not like you’ve ever been the party type, after all.”
Katsuki made a noncommittal noise.
“If you want, I could call some of my classmates over here to sit with us. The chill ones,” he offered. Katsuki’s glare fixed on him again, and he amended with: “I mean, if you just want to stay here in your corner, uh—texting people? That’s cool, too.” Although it would be even cooler if you did it, you know, outside on the street or back in your house or anywhere that’s not here, man.
Not that Gorou said anything along those lines. He would like to at least live long enough to snag a hatsumode date with Ayu-chan, thanks.
“I’m not texting anyone,” Katsuki snapped. ”Just—checking things.”
“What, is there something big going on in the city? You looking at the news right now?” Gorou chanced a glance at his screen, where Katsuki was... scrolling through his feed and going between different people’s galleries on Instagram?
“Something like that,” Katsuki grumbled in response.
He craned his head to sneak a better peek. The picture Katsuki had opened up on his screen revealed a green-haired guy laughing and holding up a peace sign in front of a Hachiko sporting a santa hat on his head.
“Is that Midoriya?”
Gorou stiffened. Shit. It had been too long since he last hung out with Katsuki; he had almost forgotten how to navigate his landmines. Never bring up Midoriya unless Katsuki brings him up first, Choiyaku who had been with Katsuki since preschool had said way back when. The last time he had made that mistake had resulted in an entire street going up in flames, although he supposed part of that blame could be shifted to the sludge monster that had possessed Katsuki.
Ugh, and he had gone to such lengths to get a karaoke room in Shibuya on such a busy day, too. Where the hell were they even supposed to go if they got kicked out? A fast-food joint? How was he going to impress Ayu-chan with that?
“So what if it is?” Gorou was startled out of his worries as he realized that Katsuki was not, in fact, going to yell loud enough to alert security and raze down the karaoke room on the spot. “That fucker. Who cares about some stupid Christmas lights, anyway? There are better things to do on Christmas than freeze to death in a suffocating crowd.”
“Huh, so it really is Midoriya.” Gorou tilted his head at the familiar-but-still-strange face flashing a confident grin back at him next to a girl in a bob as they held up plates of identical crepes to the camera. Even through the knitted sweater, he could see the bulging muscle. “He sure has... changed.”
“He better,” Katsuki snorted. “That shitty nerd has always been such a pain in the ass, but at least he has something to show for it now. If he didn’t, I would hand it to him until he did.”
And still no sign of an impending tantrum. Gorou had expected as much when he and Choiyaku had run into Katsuki with his tutoring session of his redhead friend back in first year, but U.A. really had changed him.
Even so, it was best to stick to the safe side. Gorou had learned since his last mishap that he hated rocking a steady boat for no reason, especially if that meant he was the one getting capsized with it. “His Quirk is pretty freaky though, isn’t it? I remember seeing it on TV during your first year. It was kind of cool, but the way he broke those limbs... yikes.”
Katsuki scowled. “That was then. He had to sit out Sports Festival because of a mission this year, but he has improved. Barely, but whatever.”
Gorou raised an eyebrow. Oh, so that’s how the game goes now?
Well. Not that it mattered. He was just supposed to entertain Katsuki for one evening, anyway, not for another three years in school.
“Eh, so even you acknowledge him, Katsuki?” he said, instead. “That’s something. I mean, it’s true that he has gotten pretty beefy, I can see that much.”
Katsuki bared his teeth in a wide sneer, but some tension had seeped out of his shoulders. “Mine are still bigger,” he said, leaning forward to reach the plates of deep-fried food on the table.
With one hand, Katsuki continued to browse the most recent pictures of the girl’s gallery, some from only an hour ago or less. He balanced an onion ring in the other as his brow grew more furrowed with every picture, unfazed by Gorou also watching Midoriya and the girl progress through Shibuya. Huh. What a coincidence.
“Heh, so he’s out seeing the lights with this chick right now?” Gorou whistled. “Never imagined Midoriya could land a Christmas date like that.”
The onion ring snapped in two.
“What did you say?”
“Uh... I meant an outing. A hangout, with friends, yeah? Like the lot of us.” He made frantic back-and-forth gestures between the two of them and his classmates who were currently hollering along to the Frozen soundtrack, then pointed back at the screen. “I mean, check out the background. That looks like a third person with them, right? So. Yeah. Definitely not a date.”
Katsuki settled back down and reached for another onion ring. “Four-Eyes,” he said. “Huh.”
Was he into the round-faced girl, Gorou wondered with a little curiosity despite himself. Although he and Choiyaku had pored over AVs and magazine shoots on their phones during their breaks back in the day, Katsuki had never shown even a smidgen of interest. Had somebody finally managed to catch his eye through all that bone-headed ambition?
She was pretty cute, he relented, though it didn’t explain why Katsuki was now seething at a series of pictures featuring some handsome guy with dual-colored hair pressed up next to Midoriya at the Yoyogi Park entrance, swiping past them furiously enough for him to almost drop his phone.
Maybe he was into dudes. It would explain a lot, Gorou thought. But if that were the case, that meant he had no reason to be so pissed off about Midoriya dating that girl. It’s not like Katsuki would be into—
Gorou paused. Or would he?
“For fuck’s sake, will you sing something where you can actually stay on key,” Katsuki barked right over a joint screech of ‘I’m never going back, the past is in the paaaaaaast’, tearing himself away from his phone. “Or do you even know what staying on key means, you musically challenged primates? Shit.”
Nah. People didn’t change that much over a year or two. Whatever could be said of his newfound respect towards Midoriya, he obviously still had a bone to pick with him. The implication that he had lost to Midoriya in the dating department was all that had got to him, after all—although Katsuki was doing a fantastically shitty job of ensuring any future victory at present.
His very much single but not willing to mingle classmates sent him an array of desperate and accusing looks. I know, he tried to communicate through a series of miserable facial twitches over Katsuki’s head. I’m working on it.
His botched attempt at a sign language consisting of various grimaces was interrupted by a crash of cymbals and wailing guitar from Katsuki’s hand that almost had him jumping out of his seat. Katsuki answered so fast that Gorou couldn’t even glimpse the caller ID.
“What,” Katsuki snapped into the phone.
A short pause as Gorou watched with interest. And little-concealed hope.
“Me? I’m at a party, you loser.” Katsuki drew himself up straighter, looking triumphant. He also looked slightly crazed. “What, you think you were the only one with Christmas plans?”
His face contorted into a frown as the other person spoke. “He’s not with me, dumbass. No, I’m not in Saitama right now. What the hell do you mean do I have other friends, I have a motherfucking ton of—”
Katsuki bolted himself out of the couch and stormed out into the corridor, cutting off any intel Gorou could gather about his mystery caller. He seemed to be arguing with the person on the other end, but by the slant of his eyebrows—some of his old tells trickling back into Gorou’s memory, now—he was also somewhat… pleased? Or at least satisfied with something.
He still looked angry, though. Then again, when did Katsuki never.
“—go to hell,” he said when he came back inside as if to prove Gorou’s point, but still reached for his discarded outerwear on the couch as soon as he hung up. He bundled himself up in his jacket and muffler, but after a purse of his lips, unzipped his jacket again and slouched back into his seat like he had no intention to leave.
Gorou decided not to question him about it, this time. Situations like these needed to be handled with care and caution; you weren’t supposed to let the superior carnivore in on how you were trying to get rid of him. He had seen this on Animal Planet.
And so Gorou sat next to Katsuki making small talk with averted eyes, while Katsuki continued tapping away on his mobile keyboard and only answered in monosyllabic grunts.
Then it was finally his turn to sing. (Gorou’s, obviously—they all had too much self-preservation to ask Katsuki to shake as much as a tambourine.) He picked Sukima Switch’s Kanade, which, of course, had no hidden motives of earning him romantic points with Ayu-chan whatsoever. Ayu-chan smiled at him the whole time. For the brief, harmonious duration of five minutes and eight seconds, he forgot all about Katsuki’s existence.
But alas, as the proverb went, all good things must come to an end. Upon putting down the microphone and regretfully lugging his feet back towards the other end of the darkened room, Gorou returned to find—
“Midoriya?!” Gorou gawked. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Furoku-kun! Long time no see.” Midoriya beamed as if him showing up at a karaoke party Gorou hosted—where Katsuki was hanging out (in the most generous definition of the word), to boot—was nothing out of the ordinary. “Sorry to intrude with no prior warning. How have you been?”
“Uh. Yeah. I’m all good, and... stuff. You, er. Here to—” Here to what, exactly? Pick up Katsuki so they could finally celebrate Christmas in peace? Rile him up until they all got thrown out? Gorou’s keychain burned a hole into his pocket. He hadn’t even had a chance to talk to her yet. “How did you know we were here?”
“Oh, Kacchan gave me the address over LINE when I got lost,” he said, making Gorou’s eyes boggle. “Speaking of. Kacchan. Are you done sulking yet?”
What.
Katsuki bristled, as expected. Oh no. They were so screwed. “Who the fuck do you think is sulking, you—”
“It’s not like they were my first choice,” Midoriya cut him off. Holy shit. Midoriya cut him off? After all that? Also, if Gorou didn’t know better, he would have thought Midoriya was pouting. “I only went with them because you said you weren’t interested, you know.”
“I’m not,” Katsuki bit out, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “And why would I be? What kind of shitty dork wants to go to some lame, cheesy tourist-trap like that? Tch.”
“I do,” Midoriya said, eyes burrowing into the side of Katsuki’s face. Katsuki turned back to meet his stare. “I thought it was nice.”
The two of them said nothing as they simply stared at each other; Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, Midoriya’s with no antagonism in them but still unwavering. Gorou expected Katsuki to lose his temper and get up in Midoriya’s face with some kind of a threat, or for Midoriya to change his mind and cower with an apology—anything that bore any semblance to the behavior he had accepted as the norm from the two of them over the years they had known each other.
But no. This silence held some other kind of tension that made him oddly feel as if he was interrupting something private, and Gorou had half of a mind to knock over the plate of onion rings just to make it stop when Midoriya spoke up.
“I got you a present,” Midoriya said at last, indicating the shopping bag on his arm. He cleared his throat. “And r-reservations. At... you know.”
Katsuki’s gaze held his for another long, searching moment. When he finally broke eye contact, he made a small and disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. “Fine. Let’s take a detour through Ginza then. They also have that corny shit over there, don’t they? The lights, or whatsit.”
Midoriya blinked, then gave him a soft smile. “Sure.”
Gorou gaped. Neither of them noticed.
“But first you’re buying me ramen, shitty Deku,” Katsuki said as he rose to his feet and zipped up his jacket again. “Extra spicy, extra large.” An evil grin spread on his features. “At that place where they charge you 2500 yen a bowl.”
Gorou was snapped out of his shock by a more normal brand of confusion that, for once since Midoriya’s arrival, wasn’t tied to conspiracy theories of body-swapping aliens. “You guys aren’t going to a restaurant together? I thought Midoriya said he got reservations.”
Color rushed into Midoriya’s cheeks as Katsuki smirked, “Sure, the nerd will be getting a mouthf—”
Midoriya slapped a palm right over the middle of Katsuki’s face. “Th-that’s right! We’re, um, going to an even more expensive place later for their, er, special Christmas menu, so we just thought we would get something to fill ourselves with before that. Our stomachs, I mean.” Midoriya had now turned a holiday-appropriate shade of crimson. Beneath his fingers, Katsuki growled and bit him. “Ouch!”
Gorou nodded. That made sense; even the casual eateries in Ginza could be pricy for the amount you got, but Christmas dinner sets anywhere else were worse. Well, as much sense as it did for Midoriya and Katsuki to have dinner together at some fancy place by themselves on Christmas Eve in the first place, but then again, this entire conversation was like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. Or a fever dream.
The three of them bade their goodbyes in a characteristic fashion: Midoriya polite and still apologizing for his intrusion, Katsuki merely clicking his tongue, Gorou in a frazzled daze. To his continued horror and fascination, at Midoriya’s insistent elbowing (though after Katsuki almost tripped him to the floor with a heel-hook in retaliation), the latter had finally grumbled something about this not being a complete waste of time.
Gorou couldn’t say the same, but he wished them a merry Christmas, nevertheless.
He peeked a glance down the corridor through the glass door on their way out. Katsuki seemed to be angrily ranting as he took off his muffler and attempted to mummify Midoriya's cold-bitten cheeks with it, but Midoriya swatted him off and tried to force his gift into Katsuki’s hand, which led to Katsuki kicking his shin, so Midoriya lunged for his waist to shove the shopping bag into his jacket pocket, before Katsuki jabbed him straight in the ribs—
Gorou shook his head, turning back to the front of the room where Ayu-chan was now singing an old Morning Musume song in angelic tones. He sighed in bliss.
U.A. was a weird place, he decided. Thank God he had gone for a public high school.